Eighteen Odd Years

I paced the halls back and forth, scared, excited, a billion thoughts rushing through my head so loud that I couldn’t hear anything going on around me.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like I was being hit with a sledge hammer with every beat. You should be in there, a voice from within whispered, while another said run and don’t look back.

I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears trying to drown out those voices, but that only amplified them. Confusing thoughts caused me to lose control of my breathing, it came fast and shallow like there wasn’t enough air in the world to fill my lungs. I wanted to run out the door, but it felt like my feet had been bolted to the floor and like everyone was staring at me.

I felt like I was on trail, facing a life sentence with a pathetic defense attorney, a tenacious prosecutor and a jury that wanted to see me spend the next eighteen odd years enslaved to an unborn child.

Then the prosecutor came from around the corner and I expected to see a sickle in her hands and death on her face, but instead she presented me with a warm smile.

“It’s a boy. A beautiful healthy boy.” Suddenly, my heart began to slow, my breathing became more manageable and my feet felt less heavy. I was a dad now.  

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I believe a birth of a child can mean different things for all people. I waited 35 years to get marry and start a family. I was ready. For a young person it would be very scary. Surprise babies leave a open door for the life of a young couple. A very good story. I like the ending.
Coyote